


Hotline

by ziegler



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angela wants it bad, F/F, Femslash, Masturbation, NSFW, Pharmercy, Phone Sex, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 01:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11219961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziegler/pseuds/ziegler
Summary: Angela finds that she never has idle hands for too long when Fareeha Amari is around; and even when she isn't.





	Hotline

Sexual frustration is always at its peak when your lover has been away for a few days.

Angela Ziegler knew this infuriatingly well. The incomparable feeling of _longing_. It drove her crazy. And it was a different type of longing than the usual type; sexually frustrated longing was the worst sensation because it was fuelled on pure, undiluted desire; and that was something that even Angela didn’t have a cure for.

Times had changed for Angela, compared to her teen years, the moment she found something else that she could be even more wrapped up in than her work. She was especially surprised when it turned out that the something would be a woman.

As a teenager, she was mostly disinterested in sex. Even in her twenties, during the turbulent moments of a heated lust, the women that she had slept with she found lacklustre. But this time, in fact, she had found herself not just in a relationship with somebody that reminded her just _why_ she was a lesbian, but was discovering more than she ever had that sex was a defining factor of her loved up relationship.

Fareeha Amari was a _fantastic_ lover. Any woman she had slept with could (and _would_ , Angela was sure) attest to that. She was the woman of Angela’s dreams to say the least, and Angela knew that she was without question the _best_ woman – in every sense really – that she had ever had. God, she knew that better than anyone. It drove her mad to be apart from her.

They were never apart for too long. They often got assigned together at the same locations, which made for _many_ different memories. Many different pieces of furniture found that they were sturdy enough to take the weight of two women roughly breaking them in. But when they _weren’t_ able to break in the new tables of a hotel, or the hot tubs or the hovercrafts, the sparks would fly upon every return of either party.

They would return, they would kiss, kiss errantly and heatedly until their lips hurt, ached for more, whispered dirty, wonderful words hot up against each other’s ears on the ride home from the docking station, all about how they couldn’t wait to have their hands on one another.

Returning was always Fareeha’s favourite part, she said; and Angela couldn’t disagree.

Angela began to realize - tonight more than any night before, it felt - that every part of their room was a _reminder_. A reminder of Fareeha’s _hands_ , her gorgeous smile, the way her chestnut skin always looked the most beautiful in the dawn’s light. The table and chairs were a near constant reminder of Fareeha’s full lips dragging themselves against her neck as she let out those heavy, begging moans; the bed and their sheets were so riddled with thoughts of Fareeha’s familiar, strong hands, smoothing over every curve, every line on Angela’s body, and certainly her solid frame grinding between her legs.

Angela thought, a little too much when she was on her own, all about the ways that they coiled and slipped around each other during sex, moaning and shifting and feeling their way over breasts and hips and thighs, and that alone was enough to turn her on.

But Angela’s favourite place was the _shower_. The passionate, sloppy, misplaced kisses, the way her teeth would graze and slip away from Fareeha’s hard shoulder, getting to kiss all of Fareeha’s battle scars dotting along her hips, her lips gliding against the wetness of her skin, and god, that _desperation_ of clinging that little bit _harder_ while she screamed out her lover’s name.

Fareeha always glistened under the cool water dripping off her muscular figure. Angela would needily grope full handfuls of her lover’s breasts, rubbing at her nipples with the graze of her palms, moaning and gasping into Fareeha’s lips and the slip of her tongue. She was so _perfect_ , so toned and damn hot, thought Angela; the thought of Fareeha’s fingers gliding through Angela’s golden hair, often followed by the sensation of allowing Fareeha to fuck her any way she wanted before returning the favour, was beyond a sensual experience to her.

Every memory made life unbearable without her.

But Angela knew, logically, that they had jobs to do. _Responsible_ jobs, at that. Wanting to fuck and make love and go crazy over Fareeha Amari had to come second, no matter how insatiable she felt. She also knew that Fareeha was utterly overjoyed about being finally drafted into Overwatch after all these years. She knew not just from past conversations, but from moments where they would lay in bed together; Angela _already_ pining for another fix of her favourite drug underneath her; and feeling her desire slightly satiated listening to Fareeha’s breathless voice engage in pillow talk.

She would watch and listen, as limp words and smirks slipped from their flushed faces, and Angela would often trace the lines of Fareeha’s biceps.

Night after night since Fareeha had been away, Angela’s hand had found itself between her legs, thick thighs squeezing against her wrist in a familiar position, whilst her other had found itself clamped hard around her mouth.

She couldn’t resist replicating - as best as she _could_ , anyway - the sensations that Fareeha brought her with her own fingers, rubbing hard against her throbbing clit, flushed face and squirming body aching her way into a gasping, restrained orgasm; hot against her own wet fingertips. She writhed around in her clothes beneath the sheets, back arched and stiff, her ankles aching from her squirming, moaning out for Fareeha’s touch, longing, _lusting_ , biting at her own hand when it got a little too much for her.

She often found herself laying in the familiar, after-sex sensation of a cold blanket sweat afterwards, and always ended up wanting even more of Fareeha than she had done before she began. Angela found her hand getting tired on the second night.

Unfortunately for Angela and Fareeha, tonight marked the night that Fareeha Amari had been away on an escort for the _fourth_ day in a row.

She had gone to Hollywood to escort a high-ranking member of Goldshire Productions along with other members of Overwatch, such as Lucio – for his celebrity presence and status to reassure the omnic, as they were _less_ than agreeable about ‘commoners’ – McCree, Mei, Orisa for another fellow omnic presence, and finally, Hana Song.

They were a motley crew of mixed-up soldiers as always, spending days stationed on a movie set in Hollywood because the Omnic personnel was overly paranoid for their personal safety, and whilst _Mercy_ wasn’t bitter about this situation, _Angela_ certainly was.

The fourth night. A _fourth_ night of laying around in bed, surrounded by the familiar scents of jasmine and pine that Fareeha had intermingled with the sheets, and wearing her shirt that Angela had hastily thrown on baggily; a little stretched out against her frame from Fareeha’s more muscular one.

As she lay in bed, she found herself twiddling her thumbs and watching re-runs of old gameshows from the early millennium.

Idly playing with the blonde strands of hair that fell gently against her cheek, Angela felt despondent and listless. She rested in the luminous light from the television before her at the bottom of the bed. There was no other option to her than to think of the woman she craved.

She let out a long sigh; rolling her thumb over the engagement ring glinting against the glare and heaved herself out of her seat to head back to the dorms.

Another night alone with her thoughts. But that wasn’t _always_ a bad thing - as Fareeha Amari was about to find out.

Angela – self-aware and irrational – felt as though she had already had enough of spending her nights alone. She’d had enough of not hearing Fareeha’s voice against the shell of her ear, of letting their memories roll over and over her mind in repeating clouds of desire and lust.

Four nights had felt like ten years, let alone the remainder of the time that _Pharah_ would have to be out on the field. Angela huffed to herself indignantly, desperately missing her fiancée, and now idly twisting the small, grey headpiece used to clip on to her ear, enabling her to talk to the members on the field in extreme circumstances.

An idea struck her as she felt a small smirk flicker across her lips.

 _Phone sex_. Well, in this instance, intercommunications sex. Private phones were not allowed on missions, and the intercommunications – while you _could_ initiate a private, uninterrupted line with someone – was only to be used in emergencies. Phone sex was not a thing that her and Fareeha had explored in such a manner before, if only because they hadn’t _had_ to; but the idea was already giving Angela a rush.

She made herself comfortable on their bed, donning a smug smile; a mess of blonde hair, Fareeha’s shirt and perfumed skin. She knew the code to her lover specifically off by heart – 202 – and her slender fingers eagerly brushed against the keypad off the mahogany dresser.

Her blue eyes glinted.

There was little hesitation. There was little deliberation over whether Fareeha would be against it; Angela already knew she would love something so submissive.

Before she realized it, her thumb had pressed against the pale rubber keys her all too familiar number.

Angela clipped the earpiece to her ear with a knowing smile, waiting for her lover to answer. She held up a hand, arm outstretched before her face and fingers spread, and looked at her engagement ring with a warm smile. She couldn’t wait to just hear Fareeha’s voice, let alone what she actually intended to get upto.

The click of a receiver hit her ears, and her breath hitched in her throat.

“Oh! Fareeha?”

“Angela!” Fareeha replied, and there was a scramble as she clipped on the headpiece to her ear with a clink of her braids against the plastic. “Angela, it’s so good to hear your voice! Is everything alright? You aren’t hurt, are you?! Is mom -”

“No, no!” Angela replied with a warm laugh, and twirls her hair around her index finger idly. “I’m fine, Ana’s fine, I promise! I just…I just missed you. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t use this line, but -”

“…You never need to apologize when I missed you so, angel. I’m so happy to hear your voice.”

Angela felt her stomach get a wave of butterflies as she listened to Fareeha smile, and let out a small laugh.

“…You did, huh? You missed me?”

“Do you even have to ask me that Angela?” Fareeha chuckled. “I did. I _do_ , even. Very much, and always.”

Despite her solid resolve, for a split second, Angela forgot entirely why she had called. She was so overwhelmed and in love and god, just so _happy_ to her Fareeha’s voice. The scent of her shirt against Angela’s skin as she lay, the sensation of her husky voice speaking softly against her ear; what more could she ever want than this?

She is reminded what she _could_ possibly want even more when Fareeha laughed into the silence.

Her dulcet, familiar laugh, deep from her throat. Angela can picture the small feeling of a vibration of her voice when she would lay on her chest, followed by the bright smile accompanying it.

She felt the sensation of being unbearably horny hit her between the legs again.

“…I’ve been missing you like crazy too, you know.” Angela replied, a stiff feeling enveloping her whole body, shuffling only to move somehow closer into Fareeha’s arms in spirit. “I’ve been rather…besides myself, even.”

Fareeha paused, and chuckled a little softer. Angela knew that she had _already_ worked out what she meant.

“…That so? You sound it…somehow.”

“I’ve missed you _so_ much, liebling. What’s a girl to do when you aren’t here?”

“Well…” Fareeha asked, and Angela can hear the coy smile playing on her lover’s lips. “What _have_ you been doing? I’m sure the devil makes work for idle hands.”

“Idle hands? I’ve had nothing of the sort. What do _you_ think I’ve been doing?”

Fareeha made a noise of faux contemplation as Angela let out a flirty laugh.

“...Is it a good idea for me to guess that while I’m on the job?”

Angela laughed again.

“You know, Fareeha…” she began, a goading tone to her voice. “I really _have_ missed you.”

“Is that right?” Fareeha asked, and Angela could practically hear the cheeky smile.  

The sound of Fareeha’s voice was so damn good. It was like ecstasy just to hear her talk, her listening dragging on every single word she spoke.

“Of course. I’ve missed your lips, your arms, your face…”

Both waited with baited breath. Fareeha shuffled in her makeshift hideaway.

“But most of all,” Angela whispered, “I missed your touch.”

“My touch, hm?” Fareeha asked a little too eagerly to be so ‘concerned’ about being on the job, and noticed Angela’s laugh go from flirty to seductive.

“My hands…” Angela began, before biting her lip and shuffling around a little.

“Mm…? You should tell me, darling.”

“I’ve been touching myself while I think of you.”

Fareeha exhaled quietly, and Angela felt the bubble of desire pop inside her mind.

Just hearing how easily Fareeha was putty in her hands was enough. Her head was delirious; the world seemed like it had come to a halt. She could hardly resist slipping the hand underneath the hem of her underwear, but rest her fingertips just short of touching herself fully as she spoke.

“Angela, I’m…I’m on the job…”

Angela squirmed around in bed as she listened to Fareeha protesting weakly, and Fareeha felt her hands twitching.

“I want you so _badly_ , Fareeha…I’ve been going crazy without you…”

Fareeha could hear that Angela’s breath was heavy and hot, and Angela could hear in turn that her lover crossed her legs as she sat.  

“Angela… _god_ …”

“I…ah…”

Angela felt almost everything happening too quickly, but she didn’t _want_ to stop. She wanted Fareeha to touch her, or better yet, to fuck her hard. She wanted to _submit_ , to be completely dominated. She felt overwhelmed by the throbbing sensation of her clit aching, pulsing, _begging_ her to get fucked, and felt her fingers slip against it, rolling hard, slow circles around the base with her fingertips, dipping in and out of her slit slow as she spoke.

“Angela…!” Fareeha pleaded in a low whisper, and Angela felt a shiver up her spine.

“Fareeha…I’m already so…”

“Angela, you really are so _bold_ to do this while I’m here…you must really be turned on, hm?”

Fareeha felt her head spinning listening to Angela’s carnal desire, and let out a frustrated moan as she heard her lover moaning against her pillow.

 “Fareeha…!” she moaned unexpectedly, and Fareeha felt her back straighten. “Ah! Fareeha!”

The moans were coming from her mouth almost involuntarily, and Fareeha lapped it up like honey. The sound of Fareeha’s already dizzy voice, the sensation of Angela’s fingertips feeling her wetness and her complete turned on presence. Angela rubbed, gently and hard and then gentle again, slipping inside and out of her slit, moaning out against the shell of the receiver and trying desperately to not be too loud.

“I want to go down on you, Angela.” She blurted out suddenly and involuntarily, and Angela felt her head spin at the thought of Fareeha’s tongue between her legs; spread wide, rolling up and down her slit, her lips sucking down on her clit in all the familiar ways that she liked. The feeling of Fareeha’s strong hands gripping to her thick thighs over her shoulders, stroking the skin and kissing along her inner sides was always too much to bear without digging her nails into her skin.

Angela moaned, sharp enough to send a prickle of vibration through the receiver with the sound. Fareeha’s eyelids flickered over her deep eyes.

“More! T…Tell me more, Fareeha…!”

Fareeha grunted quietly, and clenched her thighs together hard.

“…ugh, I wish I could slip my hand between your legs…I’d not stop fucking you tonight…having my hands all over you…”

“More…!” Angela begged, and Fareeha, slipping a hand in between her legs over her trousers, was trying desperately not to press down too hard to avoid completely losing focus.

 “Beg.” She mumbled with a definite tone, and Angela felt her lower abdomen tensing as her fingertips grew wetter.

“Fareeha…!” she moaned with a pitch higher at the end, and Fareeha felt her head spin.

“No coming yet, angel.” Fareeha barked assertively, but Angela could hear that she was unbearably turned on in turn. “You better _beg_ , Angela. Beg me to be on top of you.”

Angela grit her jaw hard as she rubbed against her clit, slipping her fingers inside and out of her slit for even more wetness against her fingertips, and grunted into her pillowcase.

Angela begged. God, she _begged_. She pleaded and begged as though her life depended on her lust-dripped words. Fareeha felt herself becoming even hotter under the collar at the sound of Angela’s animalistic, unrestrained heat, and shifted forward to press a little harder between the thickness of her own thighs.

“You’re a bad girl, Angela.”

“I am…”

“What are you thinking about right now?” Fareeha quickly asked, now delirious, unfocused, and forgetting where she was.

“Your tongue between my legs.”

“How bad do you want it?”

Angela’s free hand moved up, dragging it against her face and all through her tussled hair, messy from her legs tense and pushing her against the pillows, and letting out a breathless moan in reply.

“I want it _desperately_ , Fareeha…I just…!”

Fareeha felt her chest hitch and her delirious nature hit her even harder against her lower abdomen when Angela paused to moan.

“Angela…!”

The sensation of both having phone sex and wearing a headset to do it was somehow so _intimate_ , so deeply personal in a way that neither one of them could even remember the fact that the other wasn’t physically there.

Having Fareeha’s voice in Angela’s ear was enough to make her squirm, squirm and grind so hard against her hand that she had to stop herself from coming several times throughout the course of about an hour, and the sensation of Angela’s voice against Fareeha’s ear was too much to bear for the soldier.

Fareeha turned down the volume of her headpiece, constantly checking around her to see if she was being watched, but despite that nobody was around, she still didn’t manage to find the courage to jeopardize her position on the mission. She so desperately longed to be touched, to be at home on top of Angela, to feel the cup of her breasts, her thighs squeezing against her shoulders as she licked and fucked and felt around her lover’s body.

Angela moaned and gripped to the sheets with her free hand, and Fareeha had felt herself completely overcome with a hot sweat.

“Fareeha…!” she moaned, and Fareeha could tell she was close to coming.

“Come for me, Angela! Let me hear you…give me what I want!”

“Ah! Again…!”

“Come for me!” Fareeha repeated, breathless. “Let me taste you, Angela!”

Angela let out a scream of pleasure into her free hand, and felt the shock of pure pleasure send vibrations through her whole body. Her fingers were wet, her inner thighs felt sticky from the heat, her legs and hips ached; it really felt as though Fareeha herself had been there to fuck her hard, and gasping for breath, a sensitive, overwhelmed bundle of lust, she still longed for Fareeha’s lips on top of hers.

“Angela…” Fareeha breathed into the intercom, listening to Angela attempting poorly to catch her breath, and feeling her head swimming. “God, Angela, that…”

“That…” Angela gasped, and Fareeha paused. “That is my line…”

Fareeha chuckled to herself, shifting in the stance of her own heat, feeling between her legs throbbing and aching for her now exhausted lover, who laughed in return a little bashfully.

“Wow…” Fareeha stated, and Angela heard her run a hand through her hair. “That, uh…that was good. That was...good.”

“It certainly was,” Angela replied, breathless and laughing, laying with her shirt open and her legs lay flat on the blankets. “But, Fareeha…”

“…Yes?”

Angela felt that all too familiar smug smirk run across her face; her eyes beamed amidst her post-sex exhaustion, her cheeks hurt as she smiled with a flirtatious grin. A knowing grin that Fareeha Amari could hear; a grin that she knew meant Angela was so madly in love and lust and everything in between with her; and above all else, Angela Ziegler was never one to let her woman go unfinished.

She smiled, and Fareeha felt the excitement and the rush wash over her once more, listening with an eager ear to her lover say,

“Allow me.”

And finally with a gasp allowed her hand to press down in between her legs.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to follow me on mercyisgay @ tumblr! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


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